Mr. Pennant has Published a new Tour to Scotland and the Hebrides:  and, though he has endeavoured to paint their dismal isles and rocks in glowing colours, they will not be satisfied; for he seems no bigot about Ossian, at least in some passages; and is free in others, which their intolerating spirit will resent.  I cannot say the book is very entertaining to me, and it is more a book of rates than of antiquities.  The most amusing part was communicated to him by Mr. Banks, who found whole islands that bear nothing but columns, as other places do grass and barley.  There is a beautiful cave called Fingal’s; which proves that nature loves Gothic architecture.

Mr. Pennant has given a new edition of his former Tour, with more cuts.  Among others, is the vulgar head, called the Countess of Desmond.  I told him I had discovered, and proved past contradiction, that it is Rembrandt’s mother.  He owned it, and said, he would correct it by a note-but he has not.  This is a brave way of being an antiquary! as if there could be any merit in giving for genuine what one knows to be spurious.  He is, indeed, a superficial man, and knows little of history or antiquity:  but he has a violent rage for being an author.  He set out with Ornithology, and a little Natural History, and picks Up his knowledge as he rides.  I have a still lower idea of Mr. Gough; for Mr. Pennant, at least, is very civil:  the other is a hog.  Mr. Fenn,(110) another smatterer in antiquity, but. a very good sort of man, told me, Mr. Gough desired to be introduced to me—­but as he has been such a bear to you,(111) he shall not come.  The Society of Antiquaries put me in mind of what the old Lord Pembroke said to Anstis the herald:  “Thou silly fellow! thou dost not know thy own silly business.”  If they went behind taste by poking into barbarous ages, when there was no taste, one could forgive them—­but they catch at the first ugly thing they see, and take it for old, because it is new to them, and then usher it pompously into the world, as if they had made a discovery; though they have not yet cleared up a single point that is of the least importance, or that tends to Settle any obscure passage in history.

I will not condole with you on having had the gout, since you find it has removed other complaints.  Besides as it begins late, you are never likely to have it severely.  I shall be in terrors in two or three months, having had the four last fits periodically and biennially Indeed, the two last were so long and severe, that my remaining and shattered strength could ill support such.

I must repeat how glad I shall be to have you at Burnham.  When people grow old, as you and I do, they should get together.  Others do not care for us:  but we seem wiser to one another by finding fault with them.  Not that I am apt to dislike young folks, whom I think every thing becomes:  but it is a kind of self-defence to live in a body.  I dare to say that monks never find out that they